


True Love Never Dies

by Geekygirl24



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 12:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14057316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geekygirl24/pseuds/Geekygirl24
Summary: “T-this is your husband Señora?”Finally, a glimmer of hope!“Sí! Sí! Sí!” Imelda burst out, clutching the photo close, “Have you seen him? He might have been with- “She stopped in her tracks, finally noticing the devastated look in the man’s eyes. “…Where is my husband?”“If you could follow me please…” The policeman gently encouraged Imelda to follow him, “… I have some… distressing news.”





	True Love Never Dies

**Author's Note:**

> Hector/Imelda is the best… I love them so much, and the potential for some amazing BAMF Imelda and Shy Hector is perfect!
> 
>  
> 
> I may one day, write an Alpha/Omega Au of Coco, that’ll be way more dramatic than the film 

“Señora Rivera? Señora Rivera!”

 

Imelda frowned at the frantic knocking on the door, gently lifting Coco into her arms as she made her way to the door, taking a deep breath in preparation to give this pest the biggest scolding of his life. 

 

She flung the door open and opened her mouth… only to see the letter gripped in the messenger’s hand.

 

“Finally…” she growled, “… it’s been weeks since the last letter, that estupido idioto!”

 

She grabbed the latter from the poor boy’s hand, pausing only to throw a coin in his general direction, before slamming the door in his face. Gently setting Coco on the tattered sofa, Imelda settled down next to her daughter and opened the letter.

 

Mi Amor

 

I am sorry it has taken me so long to write this letter. 

 

Ernesto has gone mad has changed, and I no longer recognise him. He’s become more and more obsessed with this tour! For the last few weeks, he’s been pressuring me to write more and more songs, and I have tried mi amor, I have tried but Ernesto doesn’t understand.

 

You and Coco are my muses, and being so far apart from you is killing me. I cannot write any more songs for him, and to be honest, I don’t want to.

 

I want to come home.

 

In fact, I’ve booked the 19:32 train home on the 1st of the next month, and I promise I will make that train and be home to you.

 

If I don’t come back, I believe Ernesto may have done something terrible to

 

Please ignore that mi amor. Tell Coco, her Papa will be home soon and that he still loves you both.

 

I will see you on the 1st of the next month, and I promise that I will stay this time.

 

Your husband,

 

Héctor Rivera.

 

Imelda wanted to be angry with him, but at the same time, she was concerned.

 

Hector made Ernesto sound as though the older man was slowly losing his mind… like he might not let Hector leave to be with his family.

 

And then it hit her.

 

The 1st of the next month? 

 

Thinking to herself, she realized that Hector must have written this letter last month… and it was now the 3rd.

 

He wasn’t back…. He hadn’t kept his promise.

 

“Right…” she muttered under her breath, “… if that hijo de puta thinks he’s going to keep Hector from coming home, he’s got another think coming!”

 

Ignoring Coco’s curious stares, she bustled around the house, shoving bits and bobs into a bag.

 

“Come on querido, we’re going on a little train trip.”

 

“To see Papa?!”

 

“Yes… to see Papa.”

 

………………………………………………….

 

“I’m tired Mama!”

 

Imelda winced in sympathy. They had traced the letter back to a small town that was an hour away by train… it was late, and they were both starting to feel the strain.

 

She had shown almost every passer-by Hector’s photo, and whilst some people did recognise him slightly, the majority said they hadn’t seen him in almost two days now.

 

Until she came across the policeman.

 

“T-this is your husband Señora?”

 

Finally, a glimmer of hope!

 

“Sí! Sí! Sí!” Imelda burst out, clutching the photo close, “Have you seen him? He might have been with- “She stopped in her tracks, finally noticing the devastated look in the man’s eyes. “…Where is my husband?”

 

“If you could follow me please…” The policeman gently encouraged Imelda to follow him, “… I have some… distressing news.”

 

………………………………………………………………

 

Imelda felt her heart sink into her stomach as the policeman led her down some stairs in the station, the temperature dropping the further down they went.

 

Before they reached a large wooden door, Imelda turned to another policeman, and handed a sleeping Coco over. 

 

“If…. If you’re about to show me what I think you’re about to show me, then Coco cannot see this.”

 

The policeman winced in sympathy, gently taking Coco off her as another officer opened the large door. “Just through here Señora…. If you feel distressed at any time, please- “

 

“- Just let me through!”

 

………………………………………………………..

 

The room seemed like a dungeon… it was as cold as one too.

 

Shivering slightly, Imelda followed the officer further and further into the room, until they met up with an older man, who was reading over some notes made on scrap pieces of paper.

 

“Doctor…” The officer sighed, nodding his head at Imelda, “… this young lady was enquiring about- “

 

The officer stopped, clearly unwilling to continue with Imelda so close. The other man winced sympathy, “Yes, of course. Are you sure you want to see- “

 

“Sí! I want to see my husband!”

 

She didn’t… not really, but she had to know. For both her and Coco’s sake.

 

There was another brief moment of hesitation, before the other man turned to the table next to him, pulling the sheet away from the body underneath.

 

Imelda had to brace herself against the wall.

 

His face was so pale, so lifeless and she could see dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

 

“How…” she whispered, reaching out and brushing his hair away from his forehead, “… how did he- “

 

“- poison.” The other man’s voice was sympathetic, “…. The blue tint to his lips is something I’ve come across before. Strange though…”

 

Imelda, who hadn’t taken her eyes off the body of her husband, glanced up at this.

 

“Pardon?”

 

The man flinched, clearly not thinking that he’d said the last thing out loud. “I don’t think you want to hear this- “

 

“- Yes. I do.”

 

“…. We found him buried in a shallow grave off the side of the road. So, it clearly wasn’t an accident, because someone tried to hide the body. At first, we thought he’d been mugged. His companion said he was on his way to the train station, and with his guitar and suitcase missing, a robbery was the only explanation…. But poison isn’t usually their weapon of choice.”

 

“You’ve spoken to Ernesto?”

 

“Sí… isn’t he the one who told yo- “

 

“No…” Imelda scowled, “… you say his guitar and suitcase were missing?”

 

“Sí, which is why we think it’s a robbery.”

 

Imelda wasn’t convinced.

 

Something was wrong.

 

She couldn’t focus on that though… all she could focus on, was her husband’s face, so still in death. She would never hear his dorky laughter, his joyful gritos or the way music just seemed to flow from his fingertips.

 

Coco would never see her Papa again.

 

Imelda could keep a neutral expression no longer.

 

With a deep, shuddering breath, Imelda turned her face away from the two officers. “Por favor… I want to be alone, por favor.”

 

The two men nodded, sympathetic looks on their faces as they left the room. Once she was sure that they were gone, Imelda fell to her knees and began to sob bitterly, “Hombre Estúpido! Estúpido! Estúpido! Estúpido!”

 

Hector remained silent… not even a guilty smile.

 

Imelda’s anger disappeared as quickly as it came, pushing herself to her feet. “Adiós mi amor…” She whispered, leaning over and gently kissing Hector’s forehead, before straightening up again, “… I will always love you.”

 

She turned away, “And I will avenge you.”

 

……………………………………………………………………………..

 

“Señora! Señora, where are you going?!”

 

Imelda stormed out of the station, Coco in her arms, “You’ve already questioned Ernesto, sí? And let me guess, he told you that Hector was on his way home, and if his guitar and suitcase are missing, that’s because he was mugged!”

 

“W-w-well, he did say that, sí, but- “

 

“- Exactly what I thought!”

 

Coco simply hung on for the ride as her Mama stormed through the streets, two police officers following on behind her.

 

“Where is he staying?!” Imelda suddenly demanded, stopping dead in the streets (with the officers almost bumping into her).

 

“De la Cruz?”

 

“Who do you think I’m talking about?!”

 

At the sharpness in her voice, the officers both started to babble out an address, fingers pointing desperately in the direction of the hotel where Ernesto was staying. 

 

She didn’t wait for them to finish.

 

Placing Coco in the officer’s arms once again, she raced in the direction they were pointing.

 

Ernesto had some explaining to do.

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

He clearly wasn’t expecting to see her.

 

“I-Imelda!” Ernesto blurted out in shock, “W-what are you doing here?!”

 

Without waiting for an invitation, she pushed past him into the small room, keeping her face as straight as she could… even though she knew there were dried tears on her cheeks.

 

“Hector wrote to me, saying he’d be home on the first of the month. When I realised he hadn’t come home, I came here… imagine my surprise when I found out he was… gone.”

 

Ernesto was silent for a brief moment, before he sighed deeply. “Imelda… I am sorry. I was planning to travel back and give you the news myself, but the police insisted on keeping me here.”

 

“Hmph…” Imelda glanced around the room, “…. They told me, you told them that it was a mugging.”

 

“S-S-Sí! He was going to the train station! When they told me his guitar and suitcase were missing, I assumed it was because someone had- where are you going?”

 

Imelda hadn’t listened to a word that he said…. She was heading over to the wardrobe, which was slightly ajar. 

 

There was something in there.

 

Something that wasn’t clothes.

 

“Wait! Imelda! Don’t go over there, por favour!”

 

She ignored him, pulling the doors open…. And then the guitar fell out.

 

She recognised it immediately. 

 

She also recognised the suitcase that had been pushed further into the wardrobe.

 

“¡Estás mintiendo, haciendo trampa, hijo de puta!” She screamed, taking off her shoe and spinning around with one fluid moment, striking Ernesto across the face.

 

He went down hard, crashing against the wall with a dazed look on his face.

 

It was at this moment, that the police rushed in, having followed Imelda as quickly as they could.

 

“Señora! What are you doing?!”

 

She turned to them, not even registering that Coco was not with them. “He killed my husband!” She shrieked, gesturing angrily at the wardrobe and the guitar that had fallen out.

 

The officer’s demeanour instantly changed, straightening up as they quickly connected the dots in their mind.

 

“Señor, you know that lying to an officer is a very serious crime.”

 

Ernesto was starting to panic, “I-I-I must have made a mistake! He mustn’t have taken those things with him!”

“When going home, he didn’t take any of his belongings with him? Try again Señor… now what really happened?”

 

Ernesto’s panic attack was getting worse as he frantically glanced between the police, Imelda and the items in the wardrobe…. And then he snapped.

 

“He should have just given me his songs!” He snarled, an unfamiliar fire in his eyes, “Or stayed with me, but no! He just had to leave and be with his darling family! We were born to be famous, and his music was the key to that success! And he just wanted to leave it all behind! I had to do something!”

 

“So, you poisoned him?”

 

Ernesto nodded, seeming to have forgotten about his little audience. “The fool thought I was toasting him! He thought I was willing to let him just leave! When he collapsed on the way to the train, I-I-I- “

 

“- You left him to die like a pedazo de basura!” Imelda yelled, tears making their way down her face, “He was your best friend!”

 

“He was stopping me from becoming famous!”

 

The officers stepped forwards and grabbed Ernesto’s arm, one each and handcuffing them behind his back. “We’ve heard enough…” one of them growled, “… Ernesto de la Cruz, you’re under arrest for the murder of Hector Rivera.”

 

Ernesto seemed to go limp at this point, resigning himself to his inevitable arrest as the officers dragged him out. As they were pulling him out, Coco snuck into the room, frowning as her mama fell to her knees by the guitar. 

 

“Mama…” she whispered, gently patting her sobbing mother on the arm, “… Mama, where’s Papa? Why are they taking Uncle ‘Nesto away?”

 

Imelda took a deep shuddering breath, reaching out to pull her daughter into a soothing hug. “Papa…. Your papa isn’t coming back querido.”

 

“Why?”

 

“…. Because Ernesto is a very bad man.” Imelda held Coco out at arm’s length, “Your Papa loved you more than anything and tried to come home to you…. But Ernesto stopped him.”

 

“So…” Coco’s bottom lip started to tremble as tears of her own started to stream down her cheeks, “… I won’t see Papa ever again?”

 

“You will… it will just be a long time before you do. You can wait, right?”

 

Coco was clearly not happy with this.

 

“But I don’t want to wait!”

 

As her daughter started to sob bitterly into her chest, tears starting to soak through the fabric, Imelda rocked back and forth, desperately trying to soothe her.

 

“Remember me…”

 

Coco glanced up at the sound of the familiar song coming from her mother’s lips

 

“… though I to say goodbye, remember me. Don’t let it m-make you c-c-cry.”

 

Seeing that her Mother could continue no further, Coco attempted to finish the song.

 

“For even if I’m far away, I’ll hold you in my heart. I’ll sing a secret song to you, each night we are apart.”

 

As the small child tried to comfort her mother, a lone officer watched from the doorway, a sad frown on his face.

 

“Que En Paz Descanse…” he muttered under his breath, “… Que En Paz Descanse”


End file.
